Friends Don't Let Friends Dial Drunk
by StarCrossdSparrow
Summary: Veronica makes the common postbreakup faux pas, and Logan is there to pick up the pieces. LoganVeronica fluff.


Title: Friends Don't Let Friends Dial Drunk  
Author: StarCrossdSparrow  
Pairing/Character: Logan/Veronica, Mac and Parker  
Rating: T  
Chapter: 1/1  
Word Count: 3,671  
Disclaimer: RT is the master of all things _Veronica Mars_. I'll put everyone back when I'm done, so please don't sue. I also don't own the section titles or even my own title: they're song titles. Oh... or _Entourage_. Triple-darn.  
Spoilers: Up through 3x08 "Lord of the Pi's" but nothing specific.  
Summary: Logan helps Veronica out when she makes the classic post break-up mistake. Silly and fluffy.  
Author's Note: As always, Lamb-shaped wishes and Logan-shaped dreams to my awesome beta, LJ user erin2326.

XxXxX

Part One: "Whiskey Bent and Hell Bound"

"I'm suh-suh-sorry," Veronica hiccuped into her phone. Tears ran little black rivers over her reddened cheeks.

"Yeah, I got that. You've told me fourteen times in the two minutes since I picked up the phone," came the wry answer from the other end. "Can you tell me where you are, though? Or who you're with so I can hang up and go back to my life?"

"It's jus'... I didn't get to 'splain it to you. Lemme start over." She hiccuped again and felt the phone being pried from her fingers. She looked up to see Mac standing over her, shaking her head in a way that was both frustrated and worried at the same time. If Veronica had been sober, she would have been reminded of her Dad. She grinned up at her friend through her tears and exclaimed, "Mac! I love my Mac!"

"So I've heard," she replied dryly. Into the phone she said, "Logan? I need your help."

"That's too bad. I kind of have a thing going on here," came his reply.

Mac rolled her eyes, though she knew he couldn't see her. "If by 'thing' you mean tossing m&ms into your mouth at varying degrees of difficulty, I think you can worry about the _Guinness Book_ another time. I really do need your help. I can't handle both Parker and Veronica the way they are. The safe ride people won't even take Veronica to my dorm without ID proving she belongs there this late. And, I can't leave either one of them here alone."

Logan paused and sighed loudly, "Where's here?"

"That one house at the end of Fraternity Row. You know, the white one with the green door?"

"A frat? You've got be kidding me! The three of you went to a fraternity house for a party?" he came back, a mix of incredulity and outrage.

"No. It used to be a frat. They had their charter banned. Look, can you help or not? Because, I'm running out of options."

Again, Logan paused. He really did not want to be running to his ex-girlfriend's aid in the middle of the night. Especially when she was as plastered as she sounded. But, he gave in. For Mac's sake. At least, that's what he let himself believe.

"I'll be there in fifteen." He disconnected, leaving Mac essentially alone.

To her left, Parker was dozing against the porch railing. The pink wig she'd donned for the Valentine's Day Masquerade was askew, so Mac fixed it as best she could. On her right, Veronica was sobbing into her hands, her reputation as town badass slowly disintegrating. So, Mac fixed _that_ as best she could.

"It's okay, Veronica. People break up all the time. And you know what they say about setting something free," Mac said. She winced. She hated trite. And everything that just came out of her mouth was trite.

"No!" her friend moaned, her sobs reduced to mere tears. "It's my fault!" she slurred. Her pupils were the size of saucers and her normally even complexion had gone all ruddy. And from the way her legs were splayed out in front of her on the porch steps, Mac was silently glad her friend had the foresight to wear shorts under her skimpy black-and-yellow striped dress.

Mac just patted her head and silently prayed that there was no traffic on the PCH at this late hour.

After what seemed more like fifteen hours to Mac, she saw Logan picking his way over the detritus of college life to the sidewalk leading to the house. He did not look pleased. But, he was a damn sight better than either of her two friends.

"You owe me," Logan mumbled to Mac as he stopped to loop Veronica's arm around his neck. "And if she throws up in my truck..." he threatened, though it sounded empty to Mac's ears.

As soon as he had her standing, Mac stood and plopped the bee antennae headband onto Veronica's woozy head with a smile. "She'll want those tomorrow," Mac quipped as she dialed the number for the safe ride cart.

She turned her attention back to her sleeping roommate. She was starting to worry about the way Parker was breathing. When the girl snored loudly, Mac's worry faded and annoyance bloomed again in its place.

As Mac waited for the cart to come, she watched Logan struggle to keep Veronica on her feet on the way back to his car, all the while bent in an awkward way because of their disparate heights. Finally, he just stopped and scooped her up into his arms.

"Logan?" Veronica asked, sleepily, peering up through her puffy eyelids to the man who was carrying her. "Logan! You came!" she exclaimed with a watery smile.

He rolled his eyes, but did not look at her. He wished that she'd just pass out again. As he set her down on the pavement outside his Range Rover and opened the door, she began jabbering at him again.

"You can listen, now. Okay?"

Half of everything that came out of her mouth was slurred, and the other half, Logan couldn't bring himself to listen to. He knew it would only end badly. Drunk dialing never turns out well.

He shut the door on her and walked around to the driver's side, cursing her and Mac and Hearst and liquor and fraternities and bee costumes and... well, everything. When he opened the door, she was grinning at him. He suppressed a laugh.

Her cheeks were overly pink and smeared with mascara. Her blonde curls were snarled and stuck out at odd angles from under the silly headband, from which two bright yellow balls goggled at him. She kept winking her right eye as though it was much too difficult to try and focus both of them at once. He shook his head as he started the SUV.

It purred to life and as he negotiated the other vehicles, all parked at hasty, irregular angles, Veronica tampered with the CD player until music blared from the speakers. Logan reddened instantly because, to be specific, Sir Elton John blared from the speakers.

Veronica didn't laugh at him, though. For the moment, he was glad she was too plastered to notice his poor choice in tunes for the evening's excursion. But, it was only for a moment, because then she started singing along.

Logan had experienced Veronica's acting firsthand, believing nearly every lie that tripped from those full, pink lips, and he could attest to the fact that she deserved an Academy Award. However, she had not been an oversight when Grammy nominations had been handed out. She was truly terrible. He cringed as she butchered one note after the other. And each time he tried to turn the music down or off, she batted his hand away and turned the volume up. At least i Yellow Brick Road /i was beginning to drown her out.

He began to relax as he blocked out her wailing and concentrated on the yellow lines slipping past his fender. Then she took off her seatbelt.

"What are you doing?" Logan demanded, casting a sideways glance in her direction. She was facing him and trying her best to look kittenish and seductive and just coming off as sloppy and drunk. He gritted his teeth and tried to reach across her to find the seatbelt, while piloting the luxury SUV with one hand.

She, however, took his hand in her space as a good side and reached across the console and stroked a single finger down his cheek... and down his chest... and across his abdomen. Half-tempted to let her make her own damn mistakes, to hell with the consequences, he ventured another look in her direction. She looked pale and she was gulping down air, though she didn't seem to realize it.

He jerked the steering wheel to the right and, narrowly avoiding a speeding Toyota, landed with a tremble on the shoulder. He lunged across her and opened the door and turned her just in time for her to vomit on the road.

"Christ, Veronica," he swore, glancing back at the oncoming traffic. Seeing that the coast was clear, he hopped out and went to her side. She had collapsed into herself, resting her head on her knees. She was shaking.

"Come on, Mars, get back in..." he started. He stopped when she raised her head. She was crying. And it wasn't just that drunk blubbering that she'd done on the phone. They were big fat wet tears, spilling slowly from her spiky lashes.

He resisted the urge to touch her and she just stared back at him. "I'm sorry," she managed before turning and facing the windshield. She tugged the seatbelt back on and just sat.

Logan swallowed hard. Without looking at her, he swung the door closed. He did it too gently and it barely latched in place. He smacked it with the palm of his hand, watching as it clicked to where it was supposed to be.

The rest of the trip was made in silence. Mostly because Veronica had passed out. He knew he could never get her into her apartment in her condition, so he drove on to the Grand. Once parked, he lifted her out of the passenger side seat and carried her into the the darkened lobby. The concierge barely acknowledged him as he poked the button to take them to his suite.

Once they were ensconced behind the sliding silver doors, his burden made a small sound in her throat and buried her face against his chest. His heart caught. He'd steeled himself by the time the doors slid open once more.

Inside the suite, thankfully Dick-free for the evening, he walked her to his bed and laid her on the sheets that he'd already turned down. She rolled onto her side and pulled her knees close to her chest immediately.

He plucked the silly antennae from her hair and smoothed he hair away from her face. And, against all better judgment, bent to kiss her cheek.

Part Two: "Why Must There Be a Morning After"

She woke to a glorious pounding. At first, she thought that there was construction going on outside her apartment. But, when she dared to crack her eyes open, she saw that she was not in her bedroom. And, the bedroom that she found herself in was much too far from the street for her to hear construction.

She groaned.

When she tried to sit up, her head spun and she closed her eyes to the black spots that appeared. When she opened them again, she saw that she was still wearing the dress that she'd gone out in, and the crisp sheets in the bed were all rumpled and pooled around her.

She worried.

Finally, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and encountered the neon green clock. It was one p.m. Her father was probably waiting on the other side of the door with a shotgun.

She groaned again and worried some more.

Standing was a chore. Walking was even worse. And when she reached the door, she was afraid she wouldn't have the strength required to turn the knob.

One the other side of the door, the television was playing at an obscene volume, but no dad. She winced and pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead to dull the pain.

And then he spoke up. "Morning, star shine. Sleep well?" Logan asked perkily from the couch.

Perk. From Logan. She groaned again. He'd been so slouched down into the cushions, she hadn't seen him.

"We, ah, we didn't...?" she began. She feared that she already knew the truth. And, her fears were affirmed when he stood and grinned at her. He was clad in only boxers. Veronica resisted the urge to ogle her ex. Or was he her current? She worried again.

"Sugarlips? Is that any kind of question to ask?" he walked around the couch and stood before her.

For a moment, she was afraid he was going to kiss her. Or was she anticipating it? She worried a whole lot more.

"Breakfast?" he chirped.

Chirping. From Logan. She blanched at both the thought of food and the chirping.

"Bathroom it is," he added, dryly. He took her shoulders gently and steered her toward the aforementioned room. "I'll be back with provisions."

And, at the sight of the toilet, Veronica felt her first relief of the day. She knelt in front of it and waited for her stomach to rebel. And rebel it did.

It seemed like hours later that she finally staggered out of the bathroom. Logan was draped casually across the couch, half-watching television, half-listening for Veronica. When he felt her presence in the room once more, he pointed to the bedroom. "There's water, aspirin, and some clothes you left."

Veronica nodded and went back into their old sanctuary. The only place they ever got along one-hundred percent. There, on his dresser, next to a bottle of his cologne and some spare change lay an old tee shirt and some shorts she'd left in his room for their little slumber parties. She laid her hand on them, resisting the urge to spray his cologne. She dressed slowly, swallowed the proffered aspirin, and drank a healthy measure of water from the bottle he'd left.

Back in the living room, she saw her bag on the coffee table. She rounded the sofa and looked down at Logan. He was pointedly not meeting her eyes.

She bent to collect her purse.

"I texted your dad from your phone to tell him you'd be staying with Mac. He thinks you did it," Logan offered, still watching the television rather than her. "Just so you know."

Veronica nodded and just stared down at her bag clutched in her hand. "Thanks."

Logan didn't say anything for a minute. And, just when Veronica was going to ask him how she was supposed to get home, he spoke again. "We didn't."

She arched an eyebrow in his direction. He could have meant a thousand things, but she knew exactly what they hadn't done.

Logan finally met her eyes, "But, I'd be really interested in hearing just what it was that you called to tell me last night."

Veronica blinked her surprise. She'd called him? Well, it obviously explained how she ended up in his bed.

"You don't remember? Well, gee, it sure seemed important to you," he noted, wryly. "But, thanks for the laughs," he added, a little coldly. "I called Mac. She should be here soon. I won't be offended if you choose to wait downstairs."

He cut his attention back to the television, effectively ignoring her.

Veronica sucked in a breath. She opened her mouth to speak. But, then she thought better of it and left his apartment.

In the elevator, her phone burred in her bag. She drew it out and saw a new text.

Wait -L

Once the elevator doors binged open, she fled. Through the lobby, through the doors of the Neptune Grand, and straight into Mac.

Mac grinned at her. "Fancy meeting you here!" Her good cheer melted from her face as she saw Veronica's frantic expression. "I'm guessing it's not so fancy, then?"

Veronica shook her head to indicate the negative. "I think we should just go."

"Was it bad?" Mac asked in a stage whisper as they hurried back to her Bug.

Once they were in the car, Veronica looked at her friend in earnest. "What was I saying last night?"

"Oh, lot's of things," Mac began, trying for flippant. "Like how you tried out for ballet when you were seven and fell down and tore another girl's tutu off and..."

"I was thinking anything on the topic of Logan," Veronica cut in.

"Oh," Mac answered. She evaded for a moment, "You might want to rethink how much you want to know."

"Desperately. I would like to know desperately."

Mac nodded and concerned herself with navigating out of the hotel's lot.

"Mac?" Veronica asked, half-warning, half-panicky.

"Well, after your fourth or fifth shot of Jäger, I stopped counting you know, and by the way, that stuff was gross. I mean, who wants liquid licorice? Solid licorice-"

"Mac!" Veronica cut it, her eyes wide and worried. If her friend was trying this hard to put her off, it mustn't have been pretty.

"Okay," Mac conceded with a sigh. "You just kept telling anyone who would listen that it was your fault that you and Logan broke up. And that you were sorry. And..." she trailed off, biting her lip, fearfully.

"And?" Veronica prompted.

Mac glanced sidelong at her. "And, that you would do anything to have him back."

Veronica scoffed, "That's ridiculous! I mean, you know how Logan has been the last couple of months. I..." she trailed off as her phone buzzed against her leg. She glanced down at it. One new text.

She opened the Sidekick and the words on the display made her resolve crack a little more. You didn't wait - L

She glanced at Mac.

"Can you take me to my car?"

Her friend nodded and she stowed the phone once more.

Part Three: "When We Meet Again"

Once she said goodbye to Mac and promised to call later, she hopped into her car and retraced the route she'd just come. She slid into an available space at the Grand and sat in her VUE, staring at a hedge in front of her. She was gripping the steering wheel so hard, her knuckles stood out in four sharp little ridges in front of the greenery, reminding Veronica of eight snow capped peaks in front of a green, leafy sky. Concentrating on the absurdity of the image was much easier than dealing with the dilemma of whether or not to go back to Logan's suite.

A sharp rap on the driver's side window startled her and the mountain peaks were flattened into plains as her hands let go of the wheel. She looked to the left to see Logan, peering curiously at her.

His hair was wet and his cheeks were a ruddy. She surmised that he'd just taken a shower. And she probably smelled like the floor of the River Stix on a Sunday morning. She raised her hand in greeting before depressing the button to roll the window down. It didn't respond, so she pushed harder.

Logan tapped the window once more and mimed turning the ignition.

Veronica pressed her lips into a sheepish smile before just opening the door. "Can I help you?"

"I was just going to ask you the same thing. Can't you remember how to get home?"

Veronica looked down at her bare knees. "I, uh, I just wanted to, uh, apologize."

"For what? Public drunkenness? Or vomiting in the street? Because, let me tell you, that was a work of gastrointestinal pyrotechnics that would have made Dick proud."

Veronica closed her eyes and cringed, allowing the guilt to flood her momentarily. "No, for calling you last night. But, you might as well add the other things as well."

The warm mischief in his eyes dulled. "It's fine. I'm glad you're okay. Maybe no more frats would be a good rule from here on out?" He moved away, his hand on the door to close it.

Veronica reached out and stopped the door. Logan looked at her in surprise.

"I went there trying to forget you."

Logan quirked an eyebrow. "Oh? Interesting choice. I probably would have gone for somewhere I'd be less likely to show up... like class." He tried to laugh, but only managed a loud sigh.

"I know it's stupid, okay. You're fucked up, I'm fucked up. Together, we're insane. Like," she gestured wildly, "A big mess of super crazy, just waiting to combust and kill everyone."

Logan snorted his laughter. "All true. You just came back to clarify?"

"I guess." Veronica looked away. "I don't know. We're so volatile together... that much friction can't be good, right?"

"Hell, Veronica, if you're looking for reasons why we shouldn't be a couple, I've got a million. But, I'll never admit that what we had wasn't good."

She ducked her head before bringing her gaze back to his. She searched his eyes for a moment before replying, "No one writes songs about the ones that come easy."

Logan looked at her strangely. When he opened his mouth to reply, she cut him off.

"You said that to me, you know. The night of your replacement prom last year. You said a lot that night."

Logan nodded slowly. "And you ran. I guess the magazines are wrong. Girls want more action, less talk."

Veronica's lips quirked into a small smile. "What magazines are you reading? Teen Vogue?" Logan matched her smile with a sad one of his own. "Well, they had it right. I remember every word you said to me. I left because I'm me."

"And you came back for what?"

Veronica met his gaze slowly before confessing, "Because you're you."

Logan grinned and bent claim her mouth with a kiss. A moment later, he backed up smirking. "You taste like a hangover, honey bee."

She smacked him and pouted playfully. "That's not very nice. Maybe I should reconsider this."

He grabbed her hand and tugged her out of the SUV. "Come on, I've got a brand new toothbrush in the suite. And, for the record, what is _this _exactly?"

As she linked her arm through his, she grinned up at him. "This is your second chance."

Logan mocked rolling his eyes. "_My_ second chance?"

"Yeah, so I think you need to start it off with something fantastic. Like eggs, sausage, coffee, and the second season of_ Entourage_."

Logan laughed as he slid through the revolving door behind her. Maybe drunk dialing did turn out alright sometimes.

XxXxXxX


End file.
